


Until You Get It Right

by Mireille



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-05
Updated: 2005-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: The trouble with time travel is that you don't always know where you're going to have been.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Minor Characters ficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mireille719/995954.html) in 2005.

1956

Algy recognized the voice from across the room. Or, to be fair, he _thought_ he recognized the voice. It had been fifteen years, after all; his memory was good, but not perfect. 

"Excuse me for a moment," he murmured to his wife as he got to his feet. Helen didn't seem to take much notice; she was deep in conversation with the woman on her left. At least _she_ was enjoying this rotten excuse for a party. Algy himself was loathing every minute of it; the food was terrible and most of the guests were pompous old bores. On the other hand, one didn't turn down an invitation to the managing director's Christmas party, not if one had one's eye on an office on the fourth floor. And the drinks were good--Weatherly was far too fond of the stuff to serve anything but the best. 

He wondered how the old man knew Jack--if it was even him in the first place. The chances weren't that good, considering that Jack had been missing for the past fifteen years, and the room was far too crowded for Algy to get a glimpse of the man whose voice had drawn his attention. He hoped it was Jack; not only would he be glad to know the man had made it through the war, he'd certainly liven this party up a bit. 

Whoever he was, this man already seemed to be doing that; as Algy approached the table, everyone was laughing at something he'd said. From the back, at least, he did resemble Jack, though if it really was him, he looked to have aged far better than Algy had; there wasn't a trace of grey in his hair. 

There was a woman at his side; from the back, Algy could see dark curls, a yellow frock, and absolutely perfect posture. Well, why shouldn't there be a woman, he thought. Jack could charm anyone he put his mind to, and even Algy had got married eventually--though the arrangement he and Helen had come to wouldn't have suited everyone as well as it did them. And it wasn't as though Algy was going to propose that he and Jack take up where they left off; it'd been fifteen years, for heaven's sake. But Jack Harkness had disappeared one night--one very confusing night--and had been presumed dead, and if it _was_ him, Algy wanted to know what had happened. 

"Really, Harkness," the woman in yellow was saying, "must you be so vulgar?"

"What can I say, Maddy?" the man said, and between the name and the voice, Algy was sure that it was Jack. "You inspire me."

"Captain Harkness?" Algy said, coming up to the table. 

"Captain?" the woman said. She was, Algy could now see, rather pretty, if too serious-looking for anyone he'd have expected to see Jack with. "Have you been exaggerating again?"

"I'm _Lieutenant_ Harkness," Jack said, his rank sounding odd in his American accent. "And I swear, I didn't know that was your wife I was dancing with," he added, turning to Algy with a winsome grin.

It wasn't Jack. It couldn’t be. This man was too young, younger even than the Jack of Algy's memories. Certainly too young to be nearer fifty than forty, as Jack would have to be. But the resemblance was striking, and Algy stared for a bit before realizing how rude he was being. 

"I'm...er...I'm sorry for troubling you," he said at last. "I thought you were an old friend of mine from the war, but now I see that you can't possibly be him."

"This 'Captain' Harkness?" the young man said. The chair next to him was vacant, and he hooked it with one foot, pulling it out and gesturing for Algy to sit down. 

"No, thank you. I won't take up that much of your time. And yes. His name was Jack Harkness. He was a pilot." He paused, shaking his head in amazement. "You really look quite shockingly similar."

"Oh! Er..." Young Harkness looked at the woman, who was frowning at him for some reason. "I bet that was my uncle. Good old Uncle Jack. I've been told I'm the spitting image of him in his younger days. Can't see it myself, but...."

"He's alive, then?" Algy said. "He disappeared during an air raid." 

"Yeah," Harkness answered after a slight hesitation. "He's alive and well. Back in the States now, of course."

That was good enough news that Algy forgot his earlier disappointment. "When you next see him, could you tell him that Algy Pritchard sends his best? We were friends, once."

The look the young man gave him suggested that he knew exactly what sort of "friends" Algy and his uncle had been, but he just smiled. "Of course. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear from you."

"Thank you. And now I should be getting back to my wife." Algy turned to go back to Helen, but he couldn't help overhearing a fragment of conversation from the table he'd just left. 

"Harkness, what have you been playing at? Unauthorized visits to these co-ordinates?"

"Whoa, _easy_ , Maddy."

" _Major_ ," she snapped. 

"Cross my heart, Maddy--Major--I've never been here before. Central must screw up somewhere along the line. It wouldn't be the first time."

None of it made any sense to Algy, so he put it out of his mind, continuing to make his way back across the room. It was good to know Jack had made it through the war after all, he thought, as he snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. 

Still, too bad that was only his nephew. Algy would have liked to see him again. 

***

1931

Damn and blast, he was going to be late. He was supposed to meet with Professor Whitlow at two o'clock, and he had less than five minutes to get there. Algy quickened his pace, though he didn't quite break into a run. There was no way he was going to make it to the professor's rooms in time, no matter what. 

"Algy!"

Algy ignored whoever was calling him. It was probably Simpson, and Simpson was just going to have to get up to whatever trouble he was planning _without_ Algy's help this time. 

"Algy, wait up a minute!"

Not Simpson. That was an American accent. He didn't _know_ any Americans, though, and that had him curious. Resigned to the fact that he was going to be late anyway, Algy stopped as the man caught up with him. 

"Never thought I'd see you here," the man said as Algy turned to face him directly. "Don't tell me you became a don after the--" He broke off, frowning. "Not _again_ ," he muttered under his breath. Then, before Algy could say anything, he turned around, shouting at a couple--a man and a rather outlandishly-dressed girl--who were coming up the path some distance behind him. "The TARDIS is still on the blink, Doctor!"

"What?" the man called back.

"We're too early!"

Algy cleared his throat. "Pardon me, but do I know you?" He didn't; he was certain of that. For one thing, most of the people he knew talked sense at least some of the time, and for another, the man really was quite... well, Algy would have remembered him. 

"Um... no. Sorry. It was all a misunderstanding." He gave Algy a charmingly apologetic grin. 

Yes. He'd have remembered. "But you knew my name," Algy protested, frowning in confusion. 

"What? No, we've never met. Sorry," the man repeated. 

"Then how did you know that I'm called Algy?" Really, this man had to be the oddest person he'd ever met, even counting the vicar back home and his excessive interest in stick insects. 

"I didn't."

"But how--"

"You just looked like an Algy to me."

"Oh," he said, vaguely disappointed. He wasn't sure what an "Algy" was meant to look like, but it wasn't exactly a _dashing_ name, was it?

"Cheer up. Some of my very favorite people are going to be called Algy." The man winked at him, grinning, and Algy felt his cheeks growing hot. 

Oh, _lovely_ , he was about to look a complete ass in front of this--well, indubitably mad, but still very charming--

In the distance, a clock struck two, reminding Algy of his appointment to discuss his essay on Catherine of Aragon. "I'm sorry," he said, grateful for a chance to escape this confusing conversation. "Must dash."

From the voices behind him as he hurried off, the couple had caught up to the man who'd spoken to him. 

"Who was that?" the girl asked. 

"A very _young_ old friend."

"Jack, you didn't--"

"Don't worry, Doctor, no harm done. Still, maybe we should get back to the TARDIS?"

Really, Algy thought, you met the strangest people these days. 

***

1941

Sentry duty was not one of Algy's great pleasures in life. 

Sentry duty in the rain was even less so. He was cold, he was wet, and he still had two hours before he could go back to his quarters, where, if he was lucky, the roof hadn't leaked. 

He could have pulled rank, he supposed, and got one of the men to stand watch tonight, but that hardly seemed fair. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for word to get around that he was too soft to stand sentry duty. He'd lose the men's respect completely, and besides, he just didn't want to be that sort of officer. 

"You look like man who'd murder his granny for a cup of tea," came a voice from the doorway.

Someone had come outside in this? Algy recognized the voice at once. It was that American who'd turned up yesterday: Harker or Hawthorne or something similar. 

"Possibly not murder," he said, "but I might rough the old girl up a bit."

The American laughed, holding out one of the mugs from the mess; Algy could see the steam rising from it. "Good God, man, you're a lifesaver," Algy said, taking it gratefully. "Though technically, I shouldn't--"

"I won't tell if you won't." He grinned at Algy, and Algy smiled back before gulping down some of the hot, sweet tea. 

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I didn't quite catch your name."

"Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness."

"Pritchard," he said, taking another drink of the tea and feeling some of the chill leave his bones. 

"Is that what your friends call you?"

"Algernon. Algy," he amended. 

Harkness grinned at him. "Drink up, Algy. We don't want you getting pneumonia out here."

"So we're friends, are we, Jack?" he replied, still smiling. 

"We could be. You never know what might happen."

There really was no mistaking the look Harkness-- _Jack_ \--was giving him, and Algy was grateful they were the only ones out here. Americans were apparently far more forthright than Algy was used to. 

"No, I suppose you don't," he said, guardedly, draining the last of his tea and handing the mug back to Jack. "Thanks again for the tea."

Jack nodded. Then, casually, he said, "I'll be around when you come off watch, if you want another cup."

"I'll keep that in mind," Algy said, as Jack hurried to get back inside where it was warm and dry. 

Things looked like they might be getting interesting, he thought. 

He still hated sentry duty, though.


End file.
